


forever with your hands in my pockets

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Student/TA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “If only there was something I could do to help my grade,” Sara says, her voice sugary sweet, “I’d do just about anything?”“Well, you could start by doing your homework.”(Or: Sara's five step plan to seduce her political statistics TA into giving her a good grade.)





	forever with your hands in my pockets

1

“It’s a gen ed class, it’s suppose to be easy,” Sara insists.

“Nobody else who signed up for political statistics thought that it would be easy,” Amaya points out. 

She’s on the other side of the couch actually doing her homework. Meanwhile Sara had taken one look at the homework and decided that it was too much effort. 

There was a reason she had switched this class to pass/no pass rather than a letter grade. She wasn’t about to let her GPA tank just because she had decided to take a class with Amaya to fill one of her math and science requirements. 

She should have taken Global Warming with Ray.

But Global Warming had been a 9am class, and Sara didn’t do mornings. 

Hence, the 3pm political statistics class. That she was currently failing. 

“It’s not my fault,” Sara says.

Ignoring Amaya’s snort of disagreement. 

“It’s just that Professor Bennett has that terrible droning voice that makes everything he says sound unimportant,” Sara says, twisting to point at Amaya before she can object, “You know I’m right.”

“His lectures are dull, but the readings-”

“Oh, I don’t know how to read.” 

“She really doesn’t,” Jax jumps in, from where he and Zari and sitting on the floor playing Mario Kart. A game that Sara very much wants to be playing as well, except that would mean Amaya shooting that sad guilty look at her, and if there was one thing Amaya was good at it was making people feel bad for goofing off. 

“Thank you, Jax,” Sara says, stretching her foot out from the couch to poke him on the shoulder in a gesture of thanks.

He doesn’t think of it as much, as poking him causes him to lose focus enough to drive himself right off the Rainbow Bridge. 

Which, sucks to suck.

“I want in on the next round,” Sara says, already wiggling down from the couch, “I play winner.” 

“So you’ll play me,” Zari replies with a grin. 

“Hey, I could still-”

“Sara,” Amaya says, in that tone made for making people feel guilty, “You should study.” 

“No thanks,” Sara says, shooting finger guns over her shoulder at Amaya, “I figured out a better plan.” 

“Is that right,” she asks. 

“Oh yeah, I got this, I’m just going to fuck my TA.” 

  
  


2

“Well, she’s not the worst, I guess.”

“Thanks Z,” Sara says, sticking her tongue out at the other woman as she pulls the laptop away. 

They’ve got RateMyProfessor open on Jax’s laptop, meanwhile Zari has put her vast internet stalking skills to use to find their TA’s social media accounts. Her Facebook is pretty locked down, but it does reveal a bit more than the other side - which had only insisted that  _ Ava Sharpe  _ was the worst possible TA to have, a harsh grader whose finals study sessions were only slightly less droning than Professor Bennett’s. 

“Zari’s right, she’s not bad looking,” Jax agrees, as Sara flips through her public profile pictures. “I mean, if you had to fuck a TA.” 

“You don’t have to,” Amaya insists. 

She’s still working on the homework, like a nerd.

“I have to,” Sara insists, “And it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept with a professor.” 

“Your Tae Kwon Do instructor doesn't count.” 

“She totally does,” Sara insists, “And regardless, that’s not the point.” 

“There’s a point?”

“Ha ha yes there is,” Sara says sarcastically, “The point is, she’s reasonably attractive, and totally fuckable, and I’m going to ace this class and then you all owe me pizza.” 

“I never agreed to this,” Amaya insists.

“I love pizza,” Zari replies. “As long as we get good toppings this time.” 

“You know, she kinda looks like you, if you squint,” Jax says, interrupting a good chance for pizza discourse, to point to one of the photos from Ava’s Facebook profile. “Like an older, more put together you.”

Which okay, Jax isn’t wrong.

Sara shrugs. “I’d fuck my clone.”

  
  


3

This shouldn’t be this hard.

Sara knows she’s good looking. That knowledge has gotten her into and out of trouble more times than she could count. Her looks were her number one attribute. A truth that Sara had gladly accepted long ago and used to her advantage whenever possible, highlighting the fact with what she wore. Which in this case had meant: a cute bra, a loose fitting tank top that showed off said cute bra, and a pair of cut off shorts that showed off the legs she’d worked hard for. 

There was no reason anybody should be ignoring that.

And yet, for some reason, her TA - the infamous Ava Sharpe - was. 

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t into girls. 

Sara had made sure of that when Zari was stalking her, finding a photo from last year’s pride of Ava with a smile on her face and a rainbow flag painted on her cheek. 

A photo that Sara might have saved to her phone for research purposes. 

Only for research purposes. 

“I just,” Sara leans back on Ava’s desk, close enough that their knees could bump. “I don’t know what to do? I’m an dance major, you know? My friends said I should take this class as a gen ed, and I just don’t get it.” 

Sara pouts. 

A look that is supposed to work.

But Ava is either oblivious or not interested in her.

Which is absurd, because  _ everyone  _ is interested in Sara. 

Instead she just sits there typing away on her laptop, pulling up Sara’s student record, rather than… Than taking the obvious invitation that Sara was presenting her with. 

“If only there was something I could do to help my grade,” Sara says, her voice sugary sweet, “I’d do just about anything?”

This finally gets Ava to look away from her laptop, to look at Sara, really  _ look  _ at her. Sara smiles back at her soft and sure when their eyes meet, and she could swear that she sees a soft red of a blush creeping up Ava’s neck before the other woman turns away from her sharply and back to the laptop screen. 

“Well, you could start by doing your homework.” 

  
  


4

The thing is that Sara Lance never back down from a challenge.

It was her claim to fame around campus. 

Whether it was riding her skateboard through the roundabout blindfolded, or taking ten shots in a row just because Rip said it was a bad idea, or in this case, seducing her TA into giving her an A well… She wasn’t about to back down now. 

Which was why she’d attended everyone of on Ava’s office hour sessions for the past two weeks. 

And while Sara still hadn’t managed to convince Ava to lock that door and press her up against it, her grade was somehow improving. Sure, Sara still had absolutely no understanding of what political statistics actually was, but they did her homework together every time Sara stopped into Ava’s office and this last time Ava had actually greeted her with something that could almost be considered a smile.

Almost.

From Ava.

“You know, you’re not actually bad at this,” Ava says, and it’s half of a compliment, she’s teasing Sara like she always does, but it’s not as harsh this time. 

And Sara’s not sure how to explain the feeling in her stomach, like it’s flip flopping whenever their eyes meet and Ava genuinely looks impressed with her. 

Which is why she copes with it the only way she can, by grinning back at Ava with that casual grin that she saves for her Friday night conquests and trying the same thing she’s been doing for weeks, “That’s not the only thing that I’m  _ not bad  _ at.” 

Ava’s cheeks color slightly in the way that makes Sara thing that for once she could be getting somewhere, before Ava turns back to her notes snorting as she does so, “That sentence doesn’t even make sense. No wonder you’re a dance major.”

“Rude! Dance is a very important major that teaches very valuable real life skills.”

“Like what exactly,” Ava questions. Her brows furrowing as if she was genuinely trying to figure that out and failing to do so. 

It was an adorable expression.

Sara’s struck by the urge to kiss the furrow between her brows, but she  _ can’t  _ do that, not yet because Ava has to make the first move. That’s the rules of the seducing one’s TA game. Rules that were making Sara’s life very difficult. 

“Well,” she says, winking at Ava, “It made me pretty flexible for one.” 

  
  


5

“You’re seriously ditching video game night to go  _ study _ ,” Jax says, holding up the xbox controller as if she could somehow have forgotten what was going on, “Not even Amaya is a big enough nerd for that.” 

“That’s because Amaya is making out with Zari,” Sara points out, where the other women have made their apartments loveseat into a  _ loveseat _ .

“Point,” Jax concedes. “Look just because your TA doesn’t want to fuck you-”

“I’m leaving,” she says, flipping him off, as she heads out the door. 

It’s a short skate from her apartment to the lecture hall that the political statistic class’ finals review session was being held in. Something that Sara had mapped out twice before skating over, making sure that she was one of the first few to arrive, so that she could pointedly take a spot at the front of the room. 

She’s right on the mark. 

She ends up being the third person in the room, and she makes her way to the front of the class, settling down in one of the seats and watching Ava where she’s talking to the other TA for the class - she’s pretty sure his name is Gary - but she stops, in the middle of her conversation to turn and look at Sara.

And  _ that  _ has to mean something surely. 

Surely, that little half wave she does, and that little half smile, before turning back to her previous conversation has to count for something. 

Right?

  
  


+1 

She passes the class.

By some miracle, there’s a  _ P  _ on her report that means pass, and that should feel like an accomplishment, but instead it just feels like… Like she won’t have an excuse to stop by Ava’s office hours anymore. 

Really this is a last ditch attempt, but the email that had been sent out to the entire class said that they could stop by their TA’s office hours to pick up their final, and while Sara had never done that before in her life - and was certain that nobody actually ever did this - she had still managed to end up outside the building that Ava’s office was in. 

The three flights of stairs that she takes to reach the floor that Ava’s office is on, is a familiar trek. A part of her aches to think that this will be the last time she has an excuse to as there’s no way she’s ever taking another statistics class.

“I was hoping you’d stop by,” Ava says, when Sara steps into her office. 

She’s let her hair down for once, which is shocking enough that Sara has a hard time focusing on what she’s saying. She’s complimenting Sara for improving her grade, as she hands the test form back to her but Sara could care less about the fact that she had passed the class. 

Could care less about what questions she got wrong or right. 

All she can manage to care about is Ava. Who is still smiling at her and talking, rambling almost  _ nervously  _ with that familiar hint of a blush there on her cheeks, and it’s that which inspires Sara to cut off Ava’s compliments, “I didn’t come here for my test.”

Ava’s “Oh?” is just a little too high pitched.

And Sara knows.

Knows the thing she’s certainly been feeling for the past few weeks.

This is more than just a challenge, a need to seduce her TA to get out of studying, it’s Ava - who Sara has willingly spent two hours, twice a week, sitting in her office talking not just about statistics but about life and everything else that could ever matter. 

She lets her eyes linger on Ava’s lips. 

More of an invitation than any of her teasings, before she reaches back to push the door behind her shut.

The sound of the door shutting is loud and obnoxious, but neither of them seem to focus on that. 

Not once Sara admits, “I came here for you.” 

Ava crosses the space to kiss her, and it’s everything Sara imagined it would be. Just the right mix of rough and soft and what she’s been waiting for for so long that Sara had even forgotten how this all started, because Ava was more than that, she was hesitation in the press of her lips like she’s read the signs wrong.

Sara refuses to let her feel like that, so she opens her mouth, deepening the kiss for a moment. 

Feels in the way Ava grabs onto the fabric of her flannel for support that she’s made the right choice. 

“Oh fuck finally,” Sara mutters against Ava’s lips when they pull back briefly for air.

Ava laughs at that a little, a quiet puff of a noise, that’s hardly flattering, but that makes Sara want to kiss her again. So she does. A soft peck of a thing.

“What took you so long,” Sara asks, when she pulls back.

Ava’s flushing again, but now Sara can kiss her cheek a soft ghost of a feeling that she’s been waiting to do for far too long. 

“I was -” Ava starts then stops, “I had to wait till you weren’t my student. It wouldn’t have been proper, might have made it look like you only passed because you - because we - you know.”

Sara laughs. 

Because oh how did she know. 

Ava’s got this adorably confused expression on her face. 

It really is adorable. 

Sara wants to tell her that, but she’s sure there will be time for that later. 

Instead she just says, “Funny story, that had actually been my plan, all along.”

Ava rolls her eyes, “I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

“Well, maybe if someone wasn’t so oblivious-”

Ava kisses her, cutting off her sentence, but Sara doesn’t mind.

After all, they’ve both waited long enough. 

 


End file.
